


Over Fourteen Million Words in All

by VulpesVulpes



Category: Red Dwarf
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-15 09:30:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5780620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VulpesVulpes/pseuds/VulpesVulpes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Red Dwarf's new Third Technician has just boarded the ship, no experience, no qualifications, forced to bunk with someone who hates him. Their personalities clash fiercely, building up the pressure between them until it manifests in a way neither man wants to admit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Over Fourteen Million Words in All

“Your bunkroom is just along here, I believe your roommate is there right now, actually.”

Dave Lister let himself be led down the twisting corridors of the ship, he’d only signed up a week ago and there was a heavy weight of excitement and nerves in the pit of his belly. He didn’t know much about mining ships, but the offer of work and a chance to get home was there and he impulsively took it. The guy leading him had introduced himself as Frank Todhunter, the Second Officer of Red Dwarf, and Lister found himself wondering if Todhunter really had nothing better to do than show the new recruits to their rooms. Probably some kind of diplomatic, welcome-to-the-ship smeg, he thought. That is, until he opened the door and Lister’s focus was distracted by the sight of his new roommate.

This guy, some lanky white guy with a head of slicked down curls, was sitting at the small table. At the sight of Todhunter he leapt to his feet and did this huge, swishy salute that astounded even Dave Lister, the man who’d seen it all. Dave was too stunned to even laugh, he just stared at this man, back poker straight and staring straight ahead.

“At ease, Rimmer.”

Lister immediately noticed how easy he was to look at, he had gentle eyes and Dave found himself wondering what that hair could look like if it wasn’t so aggressively controlled. It had been a while since he’d found a guy worth looking at for more than a second, and even though this guy was nothing remotely like his type, there was something there that intrigued him. Lister was looking forward to getting to know him, finding out what kind of a fella he was, and if he took the stick out of his arse, he had a feeling they could really get along. Perhaps become best friends? Having a good friend aboard the ship would really make the months pass quicker. Dave was looking forward to it.

That is, until this guy opened his mouth and spoiled the whole illusion.

“How can I help you, Officer Todhunter, Sir?” The Ionian accent rang clear to Lister. The man was a sycophantic fool, desperate to impress. Dave didn’t know what embarrassed him more, his eager attempts or Todhunter’s apparent exasperation with the whole thing.

“Your new bunkmate is here, Rimmer. This is Dave Lister, the new Third Technician. Lister, Rimmer will train you in everything you need to know.” He clapped a hand on Lister’s arm, then turned to add a quiet, snide comment to the man in front of them, who didn’t look like he could be at ease even if he tried. “It’s a simple job, so even you can’t screw this up, Rimmer. You’re on duty at twenty-two hundred.”

When the two of them were alone, Lister turned his attention back to Rimmer, he’d relaxed slightly now Todhunter had left, but maintained an aura of authority. Lister received the full force of a superior look down the exceptionally large nose in front of him.

“Oh! Hi, man, Dave. Or Lister, they seem to prefer last names on this ship.” With a wide smile, he shifted the backpack on his shoulder and extended a friendly hand in front of him. Despite the first impressions, he was still the new guy around here, and getting on his new roommate’s bad side wasn’t something he thought wise. Rimmer took his hand.

“Hello. You can call me Mr Rimmer. Or Sir. Or Technician Rimmer.” The way he dropped the word ‘second’ didn’t go unnoticed, the title was right there on his shirt. Dave thought it a bit formal to call the guy you were living with by his title, but he didn’t argue, just stepped inside and had a glance around. Maybe that was just the way things worked around here.

“Nice place.” He lied. “Which bunk is mine?”

“The top.”

The smaller bunk then, Lister noticed, again he didn’t argue, just slung his bag up there and followed it, collapsing with a heavy flop and a sigh. It was better than a luggage locker on Mimas that was for damn sure.

“How long you been with JMC then, man?”

“A while, but I assure you, I won’t be in this position for long, I wouldn’t worry about getting to know each other, Lister, I’ll be out of this job and this room before you know it. Up, up, up the ziggurat lickety-split!”

“Up, up, up the what?” Lister asked, lifting his head. He didn’t even attempt to hide the wide smirk across his face. Rimmer didn’t even seem to notice.

“The ziggurat, Lister, the chain of command. I’m on my way to becoming an officer, you know.” Lister nodded his head as if he knew what the hell Rimmer was talking about.

“Oh aye?”

“Oh yes. I’m the current favourite choice for promotion, it’s just a matter of technicalities, exams and that, to get out of the way.”

“Okay well good luck with that Mr Rimmer, I’m sure you’ll make a great officer.” You’re enough of a smeghead to get there, anyway, Lister thought, resting his head back on his hands. Rimmer was just the kind of snotty, skinny weed you loved to hate. Lister already couldn’t believe he’d ever considered becoming friends with this joker.

“Thank you, Lister. It’s what I was born to do.” He didn’t even seem to pick up on the insincerity of Lister’s tone, he just smoothed his tie and sat back down to whatever he was working on at the table.

“So, we have the graveyard shift, yeah?”

“Correct. It’s called Z shift around here, it’s not always at night but there’s a rotation, starting with A and moving down to Z, Z being the last, therefore coming at night most of the time-”

“Yeah, I picked up on the idea.”

Rimmer frowned, his back was to Lister, it had barely been five minutes but he just knew this was going to be the same as before, the same lack of respect, the same insubordination. Why had he even bothered trying with this little worm? He was going to have to bring the boot down, get tough on him until he learned how things worked on this ship. “Sir.”

“You don’t have to call me Sir, Mr Rimmer, Lister is fine.”

Rimmer fumed. “I meant, you should be calling _me_ , Sir.” He said through gritted teeth.

“Oh right, sorry, Sir.” Lister said, smirking and drawing out the last syllable. His voice grated Rimmer already. “Hey, I haven’t had much sleep so I’m gonna catch a kip before shift starts, see you later. Sir.” The newcomer pulled his leather cap over his eyes and within five minutes was snoring quietly. Rimmer’s fist closed around the pencil in his hand, which promptly snapped, _why_ did this always happen to him? He tried his absolute best to command respect around here, there was only one rank below him on this stupid bloody ship and no matter who filled the position they were always noncompliant fools. This… this _Lister_ had been here only minutes and already he was talking back. What was wrong with this idiot? Why didn’t anyone see his potential the way he did?

 

Lister woke up twenty minutes before his shift with a snort. A thin trail of spit ran from his thumb to his mouth, it took a few moments for his bleary eyes to focus and for him to realise where he was. Aboard some smegging mining ship that had probably left Mimas' orbit by now, he was completely alone out here, and now there was no way to back out. Almost instinctively, he returned the thumb to his mouth and pulled the blanket further up his body. If he had parents, he supposed he’d probably miss them right about now. The room was empty, and the lights were dimmed. Where was that guy? What was his name again? Ringer? Rinner? Across the room, there was a shirt draped over a chair, the nametag read ‘Rimmer’. That was it. Rimmer. Wait no, sorry, _Mr Rimmer_. Mr Rimmer, S _ir_.

Mr Rimmer the total smegging twonk.

Where was he anyway? And what time was it? Didn’t they have work soon? The alarm clock beside his bunk confirmed that, and it wasn’t until the shower next door had stopped that Lister realised it had even been on. The door opened and Rimmer stepped out, a towel around his waist, Lister clamped his eyes shut, he wasn’t ready to be scrutinised by those eyes again, he’d at least wait until the smegger was dressed, if only to give him some privacy. But Lister’s innate curiosity got the better of him. He peeked. He wasn’t a peeker by nature, he liked to think he respected people more than that, but at least this might give him a good laugh later if Rimmer turned out to be the total arsehole he seemed to be. Somewhat disappointingly, there was nothing funny about what he saw. It was just some guy in a towel, he had his back to him at least, and Lister could see how toned his back and shoulders were. The guy didn’t have much meat on him, but he looked solid, healthy, nothing like Lister’s chubby beer-gut and soft arms. God.

Is this what JMC does to you? Whips you into shape? Into peak physical condition? Or was this just Rimmer’s own initiative? The thought of him working out, taking his physical condition into his own hands appealed to Lister. He could respect that about a man, even if he was too lazy to do it himself. This man, though? Lister was finding it hard to respect anything about him.

As soon as Rimmer’s regulation trousers were zipped, and his regulation shirt was buttoned, Lister feigned a yawn and rolled out of bed.

“Ah, Lister. You’re awake. Get dressed, we’re on duty in ten minutes.” There was a strange cheerfulness in Rimmer’s tone, and Lister found himself suspiciously wondering what had crawled up, or rather, _out_ of his arse while he’d been asleep.

“What’s first then?” Lister asked, pulling his brand new JMC issue uniform shirt over his favourite London Jets T-shirt, he didn’t miss the disapproving glare from Rimmer’s direction. All of the previous pleasantries had drained from his voice, and it was left with the disdainful tone he’d heard a couple of times coming from the mothers of girls he’d dated.

“First, you’re going to take that disgusting T-shirt off and put a tie on. That is what’s first, miladdo.”

Miladdo? Tie?

...Disgusting?

This was Lister’s best shirt, his least smeggy one at least. There was barely a stain on it, and the only really obvious one was covered by the uniform shirt. What the hell was Rimmer talking about?

“Nuh-uh, man, this is what I’m wearin’.”

Rimmer bristled. “Look, Lister, I’m in charge here, and your… _appearance_ reflects negatively on me if I can’t even keep that in check. So I will say one more time, take that filthy thing off, button your shirt and put on your ship issued tie.”

“I ain’t wearin’ a tie, man. So you can get that right out of your smeggin’ head.”

Seven minutes later as they walked down the corridor towards their first job, Lister pulled uncomfortably at the tie around his neck.

The smegger had written him up for an ‘attitude problem’ that needed adjusting. On his first day! Lister found himself glaring at the back of Rimmer’s head, fist tightening around the screwdriver on his belt. He’d adjust Rimmer’s attitude alright, then they’d see who reflects negatively on who. He had nearly strangled Dave with the damn thing while forcing it on him, if this what being an astro meant, JMC could stick their smegging job.

Rimmer turned to glance over his shoulder, and Lister pasted a false smile over his grimacing face.

“And on that subject, Lister, is that haircut regulation?”

“Todhunter didn’t seem to mind it. He quite liked it actually”

“Rubbish. As if an officer of Todhunter’s status would encourage someone deliberately breaking uniform rules.” Rimmer rolled his eyes.

“Well he smeggin’ did, Mr Rimmer, _Sir_.” Lister loved drawing out the word, really savouring it, he could see the way Rimmer despised it already. If he wanted to be called Sir, he was damn well gonna be called Sir.

“That’s another thing. Stop saying smeg.”

“Why?”

“I don’t like it. It sounds… unclean.”

“It is unclean.”

“What the hell is smeg, then? Go on. Enlighten me.”

“Well, you know when you don’t wash your dick for a few days-”

“No. And you can stop right there.” Lister grinned behind his back. If he couldn’t get one over on Rimmer any other way, he could certainly disgust him, and he would take great pleasure in doing so. “Here we are.”

It was a dispenser. Identical to the many other thousands of dispensers aboard the ship, except that this one didn’t quite meet Rimmer’s standards.

“So what now?”

“The voice recognition on this machine isn’t working correctly.” Rimmer said, consulting his clipboard. “Lister, hand me a Phillips-head.”

Lister looked down at the trolley he was pushing. A what? He wasn’t a Technician, he didn’t think he’d mentioned that to Rimmer, so what the hell was he asking for?

“A screwdriver.” Rimmer flared his nostrils slightly, noticing Lister’s blank expression. Oh, that. Lister sheepishly handed him the screwdriver he’d just considered murdering him with. Rimmer used it to open up the front of the machine, he fiddled around inside for a moment or two and continued to ask Lister for tools, giving up after the third attempt and just describing them to him. After fixing some faulty connections in the wiring, he pulled his head out just in time to see Lister making a face behind his back. Rimmer narrowed his eyes.

“Where the hell did they find you? Do you know anything about this job? At all?”

“Mimas. I used to drive a hopper.” Well, that was at least partly true, he drove hoppers, he left out the fact he stole said hoppers.

“Well that explains it all.” Rimmer said sourly, replacing the front of the dispenser and asking it for a cup of coffee. He seemed satisfied with the product dispensed, sipped the coffee and escorted his useless Third Technician to the next machine. Todhunter really knew how to pick them. He was starting to believe that he was assigned the worst recruits on purpose, Todhunter had always had it out for him, the slimy git.

The two of them had to grit their teeth and get through the next few hours together, it was immediately clear to both of them that there was nothing they had in common, nothing that could be used as some kind of bonding point. They were just two different people who’d been forced together and who hated it.

Halfway through their shift, there was a break, which could be called a lunch break had it not been two in the morning. Lister made it firmly clear that he was not going to sit with Rimmer, he’d had just about enough of the man, if they had to eat together as well he might have just topped himself. Fortunately for him, Rimmer had no intention of sitting with anyone, he preferred to sit alone and take the chance to cram in some studying. At least, that’s what he pretended to himself.

Lister sat at a table with three other guys on it, the break room was pretty full at this point, and the alternative was sitting at Rimmer’s empty table, which he was not prepared to do.

“Hi.” They all looked up and greeted him with a considerably friendlier demeanour than anyone else he’d met on this ship.

“You new?” One of them asked.

“Yeah. Dave Lister. I’m a Third Tech.”

“Peterson, Selby, Chen.” The red haired guy pointed to himself and the others in order. “We’re in catering.”

“Stuck with Rimmer, eh?” Selby asked with a smirk.

“Is he always such a bastard?” Lister lowered his voice, lest Rimmer hear and write him up again. Selby pretended to think for a moment before answering.

“Nnnn… Yes.” The others chuckled in response.

“And do I really have to call him ‘Mr Rimmer’? It sounds so… pathetic.”

Lister’s question was met with three snorts of laughter.

“Jesus, he never gives up.”

“I take it that’s a no?” Lister raised his eyebrows.

“Look, the only thing you have to call him is either ‘Rimmer’ or ‘dickhead’.” Lister grinned, God he was relieved to find someone to talk to, someone who wasn’t obsessed with rules and regu-smegging-lations.

“Well that’s a relief. I have to live with the smegger an’ all.”

“Remove your hats as a mark of respect for the fallen, boys.” Peterson said solemnly, sliding his cap off his head and holding it in front of his chest, the others followed suit. Lister could really see himself starting to like it here.

After ‘lunch’ Lister pulled himself away from his new friends and was forced to meet up again with Rimmer, who was standing outside the break room and looking at his watch.

“You’re two minutes late.”

“Oh take a day off, Rimmer.”

Rimmer froze for a second before spluttering and following after Lister. “Excuse _me_ , miladdo, that’s Mr Rimmer or Sir to you. We’ve been over this.”

“I don’t have to call you any of that smeg and you know it, don’t try to get one over on me just ‘cause I’m the new guy. I see what you’re doing.”

Rimmer eyed him and angrily jotted something down in his notebook, but didn’t dispute what Lister had said, which made him smile to himself. He had Rimmer’s number and he knew it.

**Author's Note:**

> The events in this fic are going to be partly within the 'Infinity Welcomes Careful Drivers' canon partly my own artistic liberties.


End file.
